Bound
by Sapphonest
Summary: C/S. One shot. Little big of angst about our favorite CSI ship ever. I think this was intended as a challenge response. Guess I fail. Oh, and rating is only for language.


**Bound**

So, this has been sitting on my computer, as is, for about six months and I didn't know it was there. ( I have A LOT of stories that I've started and never finished, I should work on some of those.) Anyways, I figured you guys would appreciate it, even in this rough cut of it.

Disclaimer: CBS should just give me CSI. However, they haven't yet, so I still don't own it. Oh well.

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Fuck, it was just getting ridiculous. I couldn't even think straight anymore, pardon the pun. We'd been dancing this oh-so-frustrating dance for three damn weeks and I really didn't think that I could take it anymore. Especially that day. Which is almost stupid, because the only difference between the day before, or the day before that, and that day was the fact that I was finally at the end of my rope.

Rope.

Oh, what I wouldn't have done for those wrists locked up in some rope. Tied to my headboard. Affording me access to the rest of that lean, tantalizing body. I could run my fingers down the soft skin I find as I pull open button after button and follow that with my ton-- STOP.

Do you see my problem here? I couldn't go five seconds without wanting to strip her naked and take her rough and hard, right on the spot. Three weeks of peering up at me through her long lashes. Three weeks of "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to brush against you in the hall there." Three FUCKING weeks of low cut shirts and painted on jeans. And I couldn't take it any more.

I walked down the corridor, not entirely sure of what I was going to do, but I knew something had to be done. I wasn't willing to take one more second of her 'fuck-me' eyes without obliging. Shift had already ended, but I knew she was still there. She always is these days. I think she waits for the precise moment that I walk into the locker room to walk out, just so she can lay it on a little thicker.

I wanted to get there a little quicker than normal; see if I could catch her off-guard and unprepared for my hasty entrance. When I entered the locker room, I saw that not only did I catch her under prepared to have the upper hand, but, much to my delight, I also found her undressed.

She turned to me, in the midst of changing shirts, and a small smirk was covering her full lips.

"Hey, Sara."

I could tell she was trying to decide whether or not she could get away with leaving her shirt off entirely, but after a brief moment she erred on the side of caution and slipped the rest of the blue tank top over her head. I didn't hide my disappointment as well as I should have, because a moment later, her sweet voice was ringing in my ears again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you rather I leave it off?" Somehow, I should have known that question was coming, but I still didn't know how to respond. I could feel my brain slowing, the slower beat offset by the quickening one between my thighs. Once again, Catherine seems to have the upper hand, and I was still desperately trying to recapture my facilities as she closed the distance between us.

She took a final step and stood before me. My brain was screaming. _This is it! This is it! Just reach out and touch her._ But before I regained my mobility, I felt a swish of blonde hair against my arm, and she was gone.

_FUCK!_

It was as if Superman finally overcame the power of kryptonite; I could move again. I slammed my fist into Catherine's just-closed locker and slid to the bench. Once again, she wins. Isn't this just as frustrating for her as it is for me? I didn't have long to ponder, though, because a moment later, Nick walked in and clicked open his own locker.

"Hey, Sar."

I looked up to see a weary look on his face, as if he was unsure of what to expect.

"Oh, hey, Nick." I wasn't quite surewhat he was getting at, but he didn't turn back to his locker. Instead, he kept scrutinizing my face. He seemed to have made up his mind then, though, because he continued.

"Do you know what's up with Cath? She ran from here like a bat outta hell." He paused to accentuate his next statement with his hands and face. "She looked pretty flushed, too. Did you guys fight again?"

I thought about his words for a moment. _She was flushed. She was affected, too. Because of me. Because of being that close to me. _"Shit."

"What?" By the time I focused back on Nick's face, it was painted with confusion and I realized that I had spoken the last word out loud. "You did, didn't you?"

I didn't answer him. I was too buried in my own thoughts, trying to convince myself to go after her. But by the time I came to any sort of conclusion, I realized that Catherine would be long gone. Instead, I made my way out of the locker room, back into my own private lab. Or hell, you decide.

---

In all honesty, I don't know how I'd been able to tease Sara so much. I certainly knew how I felt towards her, and more and more, her feelings had become quite apparent as well. I didn't think she was quite as capable of shrouding her desire as she thought she was, but that worked out well for me.

The locker room was definitely a testament to will power. I could feel the want vibrating off of my skin, and still I resisted. For god knows what reason, I desperately needed Sara to make the first move. I needed to know that she wanted me enough to come out of her shell and claim me, but for weeks she'd been passively allowing my flirtations to drift by. I knew I was getting closer though. I could feel her hesitation weakening. I knew I was almost there.

I picked the almost emptied glass of wine off the ledge of the tub and brought it to my lips. If Sara wasn't going to give me what I wanted, I'd allow myself the small pleasure of bath time. Particularly frustrating mornings found me here. The slide of skin on skin beneath the surface of oil-laced bathwater was an excitement that I found to be a suitable replacement for what I really wanted. At least temporarily.

Replacing the glass back on the edge, I slid further into the tub, and that's when I heard it.

The pounding on my door should have told me right off the bat who it was disrupting my quiet morning, but as I wrapped my still-wet body in a red silk robe, I found myself wondering who it was. When I flung the front door open, I was somewhat surprised to find Sara Sidle staring at me with deep dark eyes that held so much more than I was ever used to seeing in her usual warm chocolate ones. Her breathing was already elevated, as if she had run all the way here, but her car parked haphazardly in the drive told me otherwise.

I didn't have time to think twice about the desire in her eyes before she was on me; her lips covering mine. Her arms encased my body and the feeling was too much for words. The fleeting moments that I could freely think, I heard _finally_ repeating between my ears.

The press of her tongue against my lips and my immediate response to her seemed to be over all too quickly. Yet, for as fast as the kiss was progressing, it was lasting far longer than I could have hoped. It was as though Sara just couldn't get enough of me to satisfy her, even for a moment. Not that I was, by any means, complaining. Those past few weeks had been hell on me as well.

Hell.

That's just where I found myself when I reopened my eyes. I was still in the tub; chilly water indicating that my pleasant yet frustrating daydream had consumed a fair amount of time.

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